


and it hurts

by a_paper_crane



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Awkward Flirting, Coming Out, Confession, Crying, Eyeliner, F/F, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Is that a tag??, It is now, Kissing, Lesbian Alana Beck, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Pizza Rolls, Sleepovers, Truth or Dare, WOW!!, alana is a human being, alana is dealing with comphet and it is a Struggle, and cynthia is doing her best, basically alana being a gay disaster, but just for a little bit its okay they work it out, have fun, i think thats it, idk how to tag this honestly, sort of???, theres some good brother-sister dynamics, this is my first completed multi chapter if ive fucked up the pacing please tell me, yeah - Freeform, zoe and connor have a good relationship because this is my fic and i make the rules
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23591149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_paper_crane/pseuds/a_paper_crane
Summary: "She feels a little bit like a sixth grader who thinks they’re getting married to their boyfriend of a week, but she doesn’t particularly care.  It’s rather refreshing, being human."alana is pining and has issues
Relationships: Alana Beck/Zoe Murphy, Connor Murphy & Zoe Murphy, background Connor Murphy/Evan Hansen
Comments: 15
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this will probably get another part or two eventually but. not right now.
> 
> oh yeah!! im on tumblr: @a-paper-crane, twitter: @yourlocalmess, and instagram: @e.hammdog

Sexuality is hard. 

Alana knows this. She knows that she doesn’t  _ actually  _ have a crush on Evan Hansen. She knows that it’s expectations — society’s, her parents’, her own. She knows, logically, that she is a lesbian and is not attracted to men. But that doesn’t stop that nagging feeling that she  _ should _ be crushing on Evan. She isn’t, and she never will. But she  _ should. _

It’s incredibly frustrating. Infuriating. Discouraging, even. It hurts her to talk to him because she’s so focused on the way she’s  _ supposed  _ to be feeling and acting and not the fact that he’s actually a really nice person to have a conversation with and seems interested in being her friend. 

Alana tries to remember these things, but it’s challenging when she’s spent most of her life training herself to be attracted to men. She’s getting better at noticing when she fixates on something Evan is doing because it  _ could  _ be something she’d think is charming. 

She still knows way,  _ way  _ too much about him. 

She knows that she and Evan are the same. She sees him glancing at Zoe Murphy the same way Alana glances at him. Zoe is Evan’s Alana. She also knows that Evan is desperately,  _ hopelessly _ in love with Connor Murphy. And Alana knows that Zoe is her Connor.

She should have figured it out earlier. She should have connected the dots, realized that the way she wants to feel about Evan is the way she  _ actually _ feels about Zoe. Instead it was one moment, one single second that knocked her over the head and sent her spiraling. 

For whatever reason, Evan invited her to a movie night (which did  _ not  _ help her fight against her decision to like him). Zoe immediately cornered her and tried to start a conversation. It didn’t work, really, but she hung around Alana for the rest of the night. Halfway through  _ My Neighbor Totoro, _ Zoe yawned, stretched, and then fell into Alana’s lap. It clicked almost immediately. Zoe was the reason all the love interests in her writing wore bracelets and denim jackets, the reason she enjoyed English class so much, the reason behind that dream where Evan slowly morphed into a certain Murphy girl.

And it hurts. It’s agonizing, being in love with a Murphy. Because as soon as she figured it out, every little thing Zoe did started to make Alana fall harder. She finds Zoe fascinating, the same way she wanted Evan to be. Zoe’s such an interesting person. Both the Murphys are, really, but Zoe is her favorite. She doodles a lot — on her assignments, her arms, her jeans. Sometimes she dyes streaks of her hair weird colors for the fun of it (Alana thought pink looked best). She loves personality tests. Every little thing, every miniscule detail, is so endearing Alana thinks she’s going to break. It’s just  _ so much. _

It pains her when Zoe asks her to come eat lunch with her. It aches to sit across the table from the girl she’s in love with and next to the boy she’s spent a year trying to convince, then un-convince herself she liked. It stings when Zoe offers her the last oreo. It’s all sort of a nice hurt, though. It’s new and scary but it’s also kind of pleasant.

And then. And then, one day, Connor offhandedly says something about being bisexual. And then Zoe, suddenly focused on her sandwich, says something about how it “runs in the family.” And smiles. And, for half a second, glances up at Alana. And, for another half a second, Alana dies.

Because Alana is almost  _ certain _ that  _ Zoe Murphy  _ just made a  _ gay joke _ . But then. What if their dad is also bi? Or their mom? Is there another Murphy kid she doesn’t know about?

“Wait, you’re gay too?” Evan asks.  _ Thank God, _ Alana thinks.

“Last time I checked,” Zoe replies, still grinning.

At the other end of the table, Jared laughs. “Is there anyone at this table that  _ isn’t _ gay?”

Then all eyes are trained on Alana. Zoe raises her eyebrows.

Alana swallows her fear and says, “No.”

Jared whoops. “We’re five for five!” He pauses and turns back to Alana. “Wait, what flavor are you?” he asks. “‘Cause we’ve got two bisexuals-” Jared points to Connor and Zoe “-a pansexual-” he gestures to himself “-and a gay,” he says, indicating Evan.

Alana blinks. “Please never ask me what  _ flavor _ I am again, thanks. I’m a lesbian.”

“You opening a fuckin’ ice cream shop, Jared?” Connor wheezes. “Serve vanilla, chocolate, and pansexual?”

And they’re all laughing about Jared’s ice cream shop. They decide on a name, but Alana doesn’t process it because  _ she just came out for the very first time and it was to Zoe. _ And then she remembers that Zoe’s gay too and has to leave and hide in the bathroom to calm down.

There’s suddenly a whole world of possibilities that Alana never considered past distant wishes. Zoe could like her back. They could be a couple. Maybe, one day, Alana could kiss Zoe Murphy.

She pushes those thoughts aside, since there’s no proof for any of it. Just because Zoe’s gay doesn’t mean she would date every girl she sees. But they linger, whispering hope into Alana’s ear. And she lets it in. Just a bit, but Alana lets herself hope that Zoe could be crushing on her, too. She lets herself  _ want _ . She feels a little bit like a sixth grader who thinks they’re getting married to their boyfriend of a week, but she doesn’t particularly care. It’s rather refreshing, being human.

The person in the next stall starts sobbing, and Alana takes it as her cue to leave. When she gets back to the table, Zoe’s grinning like a maniac.

“Alana!” Jared shouts. “Did you know Rasputin’s dick was thirteen inches long?” 

Alana nearly turns around and leaves again. Instead, she asks, “ _ What?” _

“It’s true!” Connor agrees, smile as wide as Zoe’s. “Tell her, Evan.”

Evan has hidden his face in his hands, and it doesn’t seem like he’ll be back anytime soon. Jared takes his place.

“It’s on display in some museum.”

“Clearly I can’t ever leave you guys alone,” Alana says, laughing despite herself.

“You have to stay here and supervise, Mom,” Zoe jokes, and. And Alana should  _ not  _ be feeling things over Zoe calling her mom, but c’est la vie, she decides. She can worry about her issues later. She’s tired of worrying over feelings, and right now she has a penis to discuss.

She participates, but she’s hyper-aware of Zoe the whole time. With her newfound hope, she spots Zoe looking at her, laughing at her jokes, talking to her more. She knows it’s farfetched, but Alana dares to hope, to wish, that Zoe is thinking the same things as her. That Zoe has hope now too.

And it’s new. And scary. And it still hurts. But it’s comforting, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this partially just me projecting onto alana?? yes!!! but i also wanted to write some sapphics cause it's been a hot minute


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Your rings are pretty,” she says, trying not to stutter. 
> 
> “Thanks,” Zoe replies. “You have really small hands. Here, wait, let me—” Zoe pulls her hand out of Alana’s and holds it out, like a high five. Alana blinks in confusion, and Zoe smiles. “Put your hand on mine, we’ll compare.”
> 
> So Alana does, and apparently she does have small hands, because Zoe’s fingers are all at least an inch longer than hers. She watches her carefully throughout all of this, and she’s sure that Zoe was blushing, at least a little bit. She considers it a success.

Alana doesn’t like risks. Not unless they’re almost guaranteed to fall in her favor, or important enough that the pros will certainly outweigh the cons. She doesn’t jump into decisions without thinking through every option first. She is a calculated person.

Or so she thinks.

Something about Zoe completely shuts off the part of Alana’s brain that does the decision making. She has to restrain herself from doing something stupid, like rambling about her summer (again) or oversharing things she  _ really _ didn’t mean to say. It seems like it should be easy. It absolutely is not. Focusing so much on what  _ not _ to do doesn’t give her much room to think about what she  _ should _ do, and everything starts to feel dangerously close to the Evan Problem and then she remembers. 

Alana remembers that she picked Evan, selected him out of the crowd at random and forced herself to develop feelings for him. She remembers that she regarded Zoe as nothing but a friend, an  _ acquaintance _ , when they first met, and she didn’t flip a switch like with Evan, didn’t pick her, but slowly caught feelings and didn’t notice for a while. And then Alana remembers that they’re teenagers, and teenagers are supposed to  _ live _ (and remembers the time Zoe called her in the middle of the night because she “wanted to hear your voice!!!”) (the exclamation points were audible). And she decides to forget about the risk.

She makes her first (terrible) attempt to flirt at lunch. To her right, she could cut the tension between Evan and Connor with a knife as Jared bark-laughs at a stupid joke Connor  _ definitely _ did not direct at him. Sitting in front of her is Zoe. Zoe, with her green-streaked hair and dangly necklace and freckle-covered nose. Her hand is resting in front of her, on the table, and when their conversation pauses, Alana grabs it.

She regrets her decision almost immediately, but she forges on, turning Zoe’s knuckles towards her. 

“Your rings are pretty,” she says, trying not to stutter. 

“Thanks,” Zoe replies. “You have  _ really  _ small hands. Here, wait, let me—” Zoe pulls her hand out of Alana’s and holds it out, like a high five. Alana blinks in confusion, and Zoe smiles. “Put your hand on mine, we’ll compare.”

So Alana does, and apparently she does have small hands, because Zoe’s fingers are all at least an inch longer than hers. She watches her carefully throughout all of this, and she’s sure that Zoe was blushing, at least a little bit. She considers it a success.

She keeps at it, smiling a little more when Zoe’s around, looking at her more, finding any excuse to touch her. And it  _ seems _ like Zoe is reciprocating, but Alana can’t be too sure. This is all new, scary, painful territory, and she isn’t confident about anything. And it isn’t like Zoe is easy to read — she doesn’t hide her emotions, but she doesn’t wear them on her sleeve, either. She’s just a little too closed-off for Alana to make sense of what’s going on under the surface.

So after second-guessing herself for a while, Alana invites Zoe over. She isn’t quite sure what to do, so she rambles about it for a good five minutes, cursing internally the whole time, until Zoe stops her.

“Alana. I’d love to.” She smiles softly, not the big toothy grin that Alana is used to, but it stings nonetheless. 

“Okay,” Alana says, and now she’s smiling, too. “Okay, I’ll text you my address.” 

“Okay,” Zoe says.

——— 

By the time Alana gets home, she’s already agonized over every possible outcome of the sleepover. She tells her parents that her friend is coming over and yes it’s a girl her name is Zoe and no they don’t need to make anything special they can just eat whatever’s in the fridge and yes it’s just Zoe and she has a car so they don’t need to pick her up or anything and she’ll leave around noon tomorrow. And Alana goes to her room to wait for Zoe and continue thinking about what could go wrong.

Best case scenario, Alana has the guts to say something about how she has a crush on Zoe, and Zoe feels the same. Worst case scenario, Zoe doesn’t and never talks to her again. Alana is more concerned about the options in between. What if Zoe doesn’t feel the same way, but she doesn’t start to ignore her or anything and instead is just sort of weird around her forever? What if she tells Connor and Connor is  _ also _ weird around her forever? What if Connor beats her up or something? What if Zoe  _ does  _ feel the same but isn’t ready for a relationship or is scared of commitment? What do they do then? What if Alana just doesn’t say anything? What if, what if, what if. 

Zoe’s supposed to arrive at six, and Alana got home at three, so after she’s done analyzing everything that could go wrong, she tries to do her homework. She’s barely through math when she looks up and it’s 5:30 and she only has half an hour to get ready.

How does one get ready for a sleepover? Alana doesn’t know, she’s never been to one. She feels silly, pacing around her room trying to decide if she should change or put on makeup or… should she decorate? Is that a thing people do? She thinks about googling it, but that makes her feel even sillier, so she keeps pacing and thinking.

Alana doesn’t hear the doorbell, but she nearly jumps out of her skin when she gets a text from Zoe that reads, “ _ im in front of your house >:)”  _ She sets her phone on her desk and goes to get the door, not bothering to respond. 

She lets Zoe in, shows her where she can put her bag, points out the bathroom — the motions she’d practiced in her head beforehand. As soon as she has a moment to take it in, Alana breaks. 

  
Zoe’s hair had been braided earlier that day, but now she’s let it down and it falls around her shoulders. She left her denim jacket at home, and Alana thinks she looks a little bit more vulnerable without it. She’s wearing a floral skirt. She looks  _ girlish _ . Alana isn’t complaining — it’s pretty cute, actually. But she isn’t sure how she’s going to get through the night. She can already feel a dull ache in her chest, and if it lasts much longer she’s going to do something drastic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!!! im not sure if this will have 3 or 4 chapters -- i might write a bit from zoe's point of view or just skip straight to the good stuff,, if you feel strongly about either option, please comment and let me know!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How did you get Evan to like you?” she asks. Connor’s face turns a bright shade of pink and he suddenly can’t look at Zoe.
> 
> “He doesn’t — we aren’t — I don’t-”
> 
> “He’s obviously crushing on you, Connor. What did you do?” Connor squints at his socks, pulls at his hair, tries to stutter through a denial, but something clicks in his head.
> 
> “Why do you need to know?” He makes eye contact with her for the first time since she walked into his room. “Does this have something to do with our favorite student council member?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning there's a lot of swearing in this chapter because it centers around the murphy kids

It shouldn’t be a big deal. 

_ It’s just a sleepover _ , Zoe tells herself.  _ Just a sleepover with your best friend who you’re in love with. _

Yeah, maybe it’s okay that she’s making it a big deal. 

She stares at herself in the mirror for a while, trying to decide if she looks presentable. She hasn’t changed since school ended, but her fingers twist in the hem of her shirt like it’s foreign. She pulls at the end of her braid, then undoes it completely. After shaking her hair out, she smiles at herself. Then she giggles, high-pitched and giddy and oh, my god, she did  _ not  _ mean for it to sound that much like a serial killer. 

Zoe frowns, watching her reflection tilt its head in the mirror. Something isn’t right, but she can’t put her finger on it. She sticks her hands in her pockets and closes them into fists.

Connor.

Connor will know what to do. He’s not the nicest or the most romantic, but he obviously did something right, because Evan’s absolutely smitten with him. Zoe walks down the hall on tiptoes and knocks softly on his door, hoping for both sisterly and selfish reasons that he’s had a good day. She hears a grunt from within and the door swings open to reveal Connor, his hair in a lopsided bun and a hint of a grin on his face.

“What do you want?” he asks, none of the usual malice behind his smile.

“Let me in,” Zoe says. She shoves past him before he can respond, and sits down on the rocking chair in the corner.

“Hey! What do you need in here for?” He closes the door behind him anyways. Connor flings himself on his bed, turning to face Zoe.

“How did you get Evan to like you?” she asks. Connor’s face turns a bright shade of pink and he suddenly can’t look at Zoe.

“He doesn’t — we aren’t — I don’t-”

“He’s obviously crushing on you, Connor. What did you do?” Connor squints at his socks, pulls at his hair, tries to stutter through a denial, but something clicks in his head.

“Why do you need to know?” He makes eye contact with her for the first time since she walked into his room. “Does this have something to do with our favorite student council member?” 

And then Zoe’s the one who can’t make eye contact.

Connor smirks. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I — I’m going over to her house. What the hell do I do? You’re my big brother, you should be good at this shit.” Connor chuckles, dry, then sighs.

“That’s fuckin’ hilarious, Zo. You honestly came to  _ me _ for relationship advice?”

“Well, I’m not out to Mom and Dad and my best friend is the one we’re talking about. What else was I supposed to do?” 

Connor chuckles again, then sobers abruptly. “Honestly? Lose the jacket.”

“What?” Zoe pulls it tighter around her shoulders. The jangling pins and loose patches are comforting, if a bit annoying. “Why?”

“You wear it like it’s a fucking shield. It makes you look like you’re about to go to battle or something.” 

She frowns. “But couldn’t I-”

“Nope.” Connor stands up and starts trying to pull it off her. “It’s staying here. I’ll take good care of her, no need to worry.”

“Hey!” Zoe resists, doing her best to foil Connor’s efforts, but he’s standing and has at least six inches on her if she were to stand too. With only a little bit of struggle, the jacket slides off her shoulders and Connor drops it to the floor. He smiles, clearly proud of his handiwork.

“Okay,” he says. “That’s better, but…” Connor stares at her, internally debating something Zoe can’t quite figure out.

“But what? Are you going to give me an e-boy makeover?” Zoe rolls her eyes.

“Not quite.” Connor strides over to his dresser and starts rummaging through one of the drawers. “Here.” He tosses a tube of eyeliner at Zoe, who promptly drops it on the floor. 

“Why was this in your sock drawer?” she asks, twisting it between her fingers. “Will I get a fungus in my eye if I use it?”

Connor glares at her. “If I left it out, Mom would throw it away when she ‘does laundry’ in my room for half an hour. I made the mistake of putting nail polish on my desk and found it my trash when I got home from school.”

“That’s cool and all, but, uh. How do I do eyeliner?” Zoe looks up at him helplessly, and he laughs.

“Oh, my god.” Connor sits back down on his bed and pats the spot next to him. “Get over here, you failure of a Murphy.”

“Rude,” Zoe says, but she complies.

“Close your eyes.” Connor grips her face tightly with one hand. “Quit squinting, you dumbass. It’ll turn out weird.”

Zoe flinches when the liquid hits her face.

“Damnit, Zoe. Stay here, I gotta find the makeup wipes.” She feels Connor stand, but doesn’t open her eyes in fear of making it worse.

“This was your idea!” She snaps, eyes still shut tight. “I’m not responsible for fucking it up, you’re the one putting it on my face!”

“Why did you flinch? You knew it was coming!” Zoe feels him sit down next to her again.

“‘Cause I’m not used to eyeliner, you fucking emo.” 

“Okay, I’m gonna wipe it off now,” Connor says, and starts rubbing at her eye before she can protest.

He spends another five minutes trying to perfect the makeup as they take turns grumbling about it. Zoe tries to touch it as soon as she’s allowed to open her eyes, but Connor smacks her hand away.

“What are you doing? You’ll smudge it!” He grabs her wrist and pulls her to the mirror in the corner. “See? Less like a warrior and more like a teenager.” 

Zoe smiles in spite of herself, knowing he’s right. She looks less closed-off without the jacket, but the eyeliner adds a certain edge she lost with it. “Thanks,” she says. “I owe you one.”

“You absolutely do. Now go get her, kiddo.” 

Zoe takes a last look in the mirror, nods, and leaves. 

She’s back a few seconds later, muttering about her keys. She digs through the pockets of her jacket, still lying on the floor, then returns to her room to snatch her duffel bag. 

“I’m staying at a friend’s house!” she shouts to the air. “I’ll be home tomorrow!” She tries to leave before her parents process it, but Cynthia is standing in the doorway to the kitchen in seconds.

“What friend? Do I know their parents?”

“Yes, Mom. Alana Beck? They came over for dinner a few months ago?”

Cynthia ponders for a moment before realizing. “Oh! I remember her! She’s-”

“Yep. See you later, Mom. Love you!” Zoe is out the door before she catches the reply. She sits in her car, psyching herself up for a few minutes before leaving. The radio blasts a sappy love song, but she turns it down, preferring to drive in silence rather than think about everything that could happen and everything that might not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote the zoe chapter!! it's longer than i meant it to be really, but i enjoy pretending zoe and connor had a good relationship. this isn't necessarily a fix-it fic -- it's more of an au i guess, and in this au they're friends because i said so.
> 
> also!! there's a little dodie reference in there (for i_can_get_extra_with_my_ships and their dodie song fic) but free virtual cookies to anyone that spots it!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Okay,” Zoe says finally, once she’s calmed down a bit, “Okay. Do you want to play a game or something?”
> 
> Still not completely composed, Alana nods. “Yeah, what… what do you have in mind?”
> 
> Zoe grins wickedly, like she’s just come up with a dastardly plan. Something catches fire in Alana’s stomach. 
> 
> “Truth or Dare,” she states. Her smirk widens, and Alana groans.

Alana stands awkwardly next to the door, several feet away from Zoe, who sits with her legs stretched in front of her on the couch. It feels like the opposite of what she was expecting. She thought Zoe would be weird and she’d have to ease her into the neat, tense, and clearly meticulously cleaned house, but Zoe seems to be at home while Alana can’t think straight. 

She blinks at the ground for a moment, trying to take a full breath, before she looks back up at Zoe. “Do you, uh, want something to eat?”

“Sure!” Zoe says, and she nearly jumps off the sofa, following on Alana’s heels to the kitchen. “What are your parents up to?” she asks, leaning against the door frame.

Alana pauses in her search for something easy to cook. “They try to avoid me when I have friends over. Since I’m the one who has a guest, it’s my responsibility to be hospitable and also teenagers stress them out.”

“Did  _ they  _ decide it’s your responsibility or did you just get lucky with a mom who occasionally agrees with you?” Zoe’s envy is audible, but so is her sarcastic grin.

“I got lucky.” Alana smiles, suddenly glad for her parents and their good nature and a little bit worried about the Murphys. She spins around, facing Zoe. “We have pizza rolls, ramen noodles, and cereal. Everything else requires real cooking.”

“Oh my god, my parents have never let us have pizza rolls.” Alana nods and pulls them out of the fridge, but turns back to Zoe. 

“Wait, you’ve never had pizza rolls?”

Zoe shakes her head. “They say they’re ‘too unhealthy.’” She rolls her eyes.

“This is going to be quite the night.” Alana dumps the frozen pizza rolls onto a plate and sticks them in the microwave. “Do you want anything else?”

Zoe ventures into the kitchen, glancing at the mugs hung along the wall. “Do you have any hot chocolate?”

Alana grins. “In the cabinet by the fridge.” 

In just a few minutes, they’re sitting across from each other at the kitchen table. Zoe takes a bite of a pizza roll and her eyes widen. 

“It’s so hot!” 

Alana tries to hide a laugh. “I probably should have warned you.” 

Zoe nods, but takes another bite anyways, clearly burning her mouth. “Why must everything I love hurt me?” she wails. Alana doesn’t even try to pretend she isn’t laughing. Zoe glares up at her, smirking. “Are you mocking my plight?”

“Yes.”

Zoe places a hand to her chest. “I shall die. Then you may no longer mock, for you will be… sad or whatever.”

Alana laughs again. “I’ll be very ‘sad or whatever.’ You’d better not die.”

Zoe wrinkles her nose and eats another pizza roll whole. “You aren’t my boss.” 

Alana sighs. “Please?”

They stare at each other for a moment, silently debating the matter. Zoe is the first to break.

“Fine. I guess I won’t die.” She rolls her eyes, but smiles.

“Good.”

They finish their meal in a comfortable near-silence, occasionally pausing to crack jokes, mostly at Zoe’s expense. Alana does her best to avoid staring, keeping her eyes focused on her plate. They work through an hour or so of awkward smiles and almost-forced laughs before Alana invites Zoe into her bedroom. They tumble onto the floor, giggling like little kids, both secretly trying to come up with a reason to inch closer to the other.

“Okay,” Zoe says finally, once she’s calmed down a bit, “Okay. Do you want to play a game or something?”

Still not completely composed, Alana nods. “Yeah, what… what do you have in mind?”

Zoe grins wickedly, like she’s just come up with a dastardly plan. Something catches fire in Alana’s stomach. 

“Truth or Dare,” she states. Her smirk widens, and Alana groans.

“What are we, thirteen?” She smiles in spite of herself. 

“Yes,” Zoe says. “C’mon, ‘Lana, it’s a classic!” 

Alana glares, mentally battling the girl sitting in front of her, but she relents. “Fine. Fine, you fool.” Again, she smiles, making no effort to hide it from the celebrating Zoe.

“Alright,” she says finally. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Alana says without consideration.

“Okay…” Zoe pauses in thought. “What’s your biggest fear?”

“Whales.”

“...Whales?”

“They’re  _ massive _ , Zoe. You could  _ swim _ through their  _ veins _ . They’re so huge, I can’t even imagine it.” Alana waves her hands frantically, trying to convey the scale of the whales she’s talking about. Zoe stares on in wonder, trying to figure out how Alana knows this.

“It’s your turn,” she says once she thinks Alana has finished.

“Alright, truth or dare?” Alana’s face bears the expression of a mother who has just been proudly presented with a necklace made of the macaroni she planned to use for dinner.

“Dare.” Zoe embodies the roll of the mischievous toddler well.

Alana ponders for a moment. “I dare you to text the most recent person in your contacts and ask if they’ve seen your copy of Justin Beiber’s autobiography, because you lost it.”

Zoe sighs, shakes her head, and pulls out her phone. “Oh, my god.” She cringes. “It’s Connor. He texted me, like, five minutes ago,” she tells Alana. She does  _ not  _ tell Alana that the text reads,  _ “did u kiss her yet.” _ She sends a discrete  _ no  _ in response, and then tacks on Alana’s question. Immediately, Connor responds with several question marks, and then adds,  _ “ur so fuckin weird zo.”  _

“He called me weird. Truth or Dare?” Zoe tucks her phone back into her pocket, hoping Alana won’t ask to see the response. She doesn’t.

“Truth,” Alana says again. “Make it an interesting one, though.”

“Who’s your crush? I know you have one.”

For a second, Alana considers telling her. It’s practically the perfect moment, but she doesn’t. 

“Dare.”

“Alright,” Zoe says, barely containing her smirk. “Call them and ask to speak to their mom.”

And then she’s cornered. She takes the option she sees as easier, hands shaking as she unlocks her phone. Alana can barely breathe as she scrolls to Zoe’s contact. She hits the call button and raises the phone to her ear, staring at the floor.

Zoe’s phone buzzes. She cocks her head, confused, and pulls it out again. Alana’s name is displayed on the screen in big letters. Zoe looks up at her, wide-eyed, as it finally clicks.

“Hi,” she says into the phone.

“Hi.” Alana’s voice is trembling. “Is your mom there?”

“No, sorry.” Zoe is uncharacteristically quiet. “I’m not at home.”

“Oh. Sorry to bother you.” Alana hangs up, but doesn’t lift her gaze from the carpet. 

“‘Lana, I…” Zoe trails off, unable to form a sentence that doesn’t consist only of swearing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Alana sniffles. She tries to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a choked-off sob. 

“Wait, Alana, I didn’t mean it like that.” Zoe crawls closer to her and places her hand on Alana’s jaw, forcing her to look up. A few tears roll down her cheeks, and she wipes frantically at them. Zoe’s mouth falls open as she tries to come up with something to say that could make it better. She can’t.

She kisses her as an apology.

Alana’s lips taste of tears, but Zoe doesn’t mind. She pulls her closer by her waist, knocking Alana almost into her lap. She reciprocates, propping herself up with a hand on Zoe’s shoulder and the other on her knee. She pulls back, still crying a little.

“So what-” her voice cracks “-what did you mean?”

Zoe wipes the tears from her cheeks. “I didn’t realize it was me. I didn’t mean to force you to say it like that. I can’t say I’m not glad you said it, though.”

Alana giggles through the last few sobs. “I can’t, either.”

She kisses Zoe this time. And for the first time in ages, nothing hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS FINALLY FUCKING DONE OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS FIC BUT WRITING THIS CHAPTER WAS A C H A L L E N G E


End file.
